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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533806">Making Something out of Nothing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/faejin/pseuds/nagitoess'>nagitoess (faejin)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Another Episode: Ultra Despair Girls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood, Drabbles, Finger Sucking, M/M, kinda angst?, maybe idk, no beta we die like men, will add tags as needed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 07:01:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,653</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533806</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/faejin/pseuds/nagitoess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello I’ve decided to make a place to put Drabbles under 1k all in one place (unless i find something worthy enough to be a fic of its own yadee yada nuance grey area etc). Thank you for taking the time to look at them :&gt;</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Servant is spiraling harder than usual and Kamukura doesn’t really feel like listening to it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s happening again.</p>
<p>This comes as no shock to Kamukura, for as long as Nagito Komaeda is Nagito Komaeda, spiraling into a fit of despair fueled self deprecation is just as much a fact as the sun rising each morning. However, this particular instance is beginning to delve further then it usually does. It’s annoying at the least. </p>
<p>His eyes settle on Servant’s hands, shifting between the one clawing at his neck and staining the tips of his fingers red with his own blood and the one hanging limply at his waist in a futile attempt to hold himself. That one doesn’t even belong to him. Unfortunately this behaviour will continue until he’s gravely injured himself and with that he would decrease in value. A concept that is already hanging by a thread, and he knows that the other knows that fact as well. </p>
<p>Kamukura shifts his gaze to Servant’s face. He has that dumb expression plastered onto it, smiling entirely too wide for eyes that didn’t match the energy. That’s something that never changes. No matter what it contorts into, there is always an emptiness that lays beneath it. Even when he speaks of things he believes he cares for, those eyes hold no life to them. </p>
<p>He cannot see that however, nor does Kamukura feel the inclination to make him aware of it. It’s nearly interesting to see just how far he is willing to go. Nearly. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s entirely too predictable. There is nothing he wouldn’t do, especially if Kamukura specifically asked for it. </p>
<p>Still, this behaviour needs to be stopped, lest he really become useless. Kamukura sighs, blinking slowly in the direction of the man too wrapped up within himself to notice him staring. That alone is a sign of how bad he’s gotten.</p>
<p>His footsteps are swift and silent in his approach. Servant’s eyes go wide as Kamukura grabs his wrist, pulling his sullied hand from his neck as he grips his chin with the other, making him face him all the way. </p>
<p>“Wh-“ </p>
<p>His words are cut short as Kamukura forcibly pulls him in, connecting their lips together quickly. Servant’s eyes widen just a little more as they stare directly into his own. He can feel his body freeze up against him, not fully processing the situation.</p>
<p>Kamukura presses his mouth further against his, gaze unwavering as silence finally fills the air. Servant’s legs begin to shake. That is when he decides to pull away. Servant lifts his hand to his lips, blinking a few times as if he could possibly retain the feeling that was just there.</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>What a boring question.</p>
<p>“Your words were becoming annoying and repetitive. I didn’t want to hear them anymore”. Kamukura states. </p>
<p>“Did you think that was the only thing that would make me stop?”</p>
<p>“No. It was the quickest method that has proven accuracy.” </p>
<p>Servant let his hands fall to his side, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he let out a choked up laugh, “That’s pathetic isn’t it.”</p>
<p>Kamukura looks towards the door, considering his next move. He looks back to him and gestures vaguely to his neck, “Take care of that before it gets infected. You can’t afford to be more sick and useless.” </p>
<p>“Ah, of course.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is a continuation of the previous chapter, bc why not.</p><p>Komaeda does not do a good job at bandaging his wound. Kamukura gotta do everything in this damn house</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello pls keep in mind that these arent the best so forgive me if they sound rushed and incomplete bc they kinda are. these are just silly little drabbles.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’ll have to do. </p><p>Komaeda touches the bandage that he had just haphazardly wrapped around his neck. It’s not the best, but he is no doctor. It’ll catch the blood though, so it is good enough. </p><p>He releases a sigh into the air, staring at himself in the mirror a second longer then he really should have. His reflection is never kind. It seems as though it knows something he doesn’t. And when he stares too hard, it might just look inside of him, and no one should really do that. Not even himself. </p><p>His hand finds the doorknob, twisting it as he tears his eyes away from the mirror, only to meet with an even colder expression upon opening the door. </p><p>“Kamukura....” </p><p>The other’s eyes were immediately drawn to his neck, probably noticing just how horrible of a job he did at taking care of the wounds placed there. Not that it should matter, he did what was asked of him. Kamukura should be pleased enough with it. </p><p>Kamukura took a step forward to him. Nothing was said as Komaeda found himself stepping backwards, Kamukura moving into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.</p><p>“Your bandaging is no good.” </p><p>Komaeda knew this, he knew to expect something like that, yet, hearing it still made his heart pang. </p><p>“I know.” There was nothing else he could say at that point. He was already aware, and wasn’t necessarily able to do much better. </p><p>Kamukura lifts a hand, slowly, as if he is trying to figure out exactly what he wants to do, and upon deciding, touches a finger to the cool metal of his collar. </p><p>“Turn, face the mirror.” </p><p>Komaeda immediately turns, once again being forced to look in the unwanted direction. He averts his gaze to his hands...hand...the one with dried blood crusted disgustingly beneath his nails.</p><p>He could feel Kamukura’s hands brush away the hair on the back of his neck, it took him a moment though, to realize why.</p><p>Komaeda’s eyes widen, hands immediately going up to clutch around his collar as he hears the deafening click of a lock being undone. </p><p>“<em> Don’t </em>.”</p><p>“Don’t?” Kamukura repeats, eyebrows narrowing for just a moment before relaxing once more, “Why?”</p><p>“You can’t take it off...I can’t have it off.” Komaeda whispers softly, one hand gripping the metal so tightly his knuckles were beginning to turn white, “You just can’t.”</p><p>Kamukura pauses, as if he were actually considering it, but deep down Komaeda knew. Of all people, if anyone was going to take it off of him or even could, it is him. But he still doesn’t want that. </p><p>“Let go.” </p><p>Komaeda chews on his bottom lip, hand still holding onto his collar as tight as possible. He draws in a breath, before releasing it, giving Kamukura an easier time removing it. It’s preposterous to think it was anything like giving permission. Someone this pathetic is in no place to be telling anyone what to do and if he finds himself in that position? Well they must be worse then he is, which would be truly something monumental.  </p><p>A feeling of dread settles over him. This is wrong. It’s wrong. </p><p>Kamukura makes quick work of setting the collar down on the counter before removing the shoddily wrapped bandages. Komaeda squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t look, he doesn’t want to look. </p><p>But it doesn’t seem like he has a choice in that matter either. His eyes shoot open as Kamukura presses two fingers against his neck, digging in at the scratches until they begin bleeding again. He slaps a hand over his mouth, muffling the pained noises as the other continues to press down until he finds himself sated. Not once did those crimson eyes unlock from his own. Komaeda is trapped in his gaze, something so terrifyingly beautiful, he almost doesn’t want to look away. It’s almost enough to make him forget the emptiness around his neck, that is now replaced with pain. </p><p>Almost.</p><p>Kamukura finally looks away, only to stare at his bloodied fingers. Komaeda’s hand drops to his side, gripping the material of his pants with shaky fingers as he watches the other with an intense stare. There’s a beat of silence before Kamukura is lifting his fingers to his mouth, pressing the digits to his lips expectantly. Komaeda parts them with ease, not even thinking as the taste of metal assaults his taste buds. </p><p>Kamukura presses them down onto his tongue, expression unchanging as he drags them across the muscle. Komaeda isn’t sure what to make of this exactly. This behaviour is something usually displayed when Kamukura is trying to figure something out, but there really isn’t anything worth thinking about at this moment. At least not to him. All he can think about is the ache around his neck and the taste of his own blood on the man’s fingers. What else is there to come of that? Maybe it is something he will never know. That’s okay though, sometimes there are things that simply are not meant for him to figure out. It must be for the best. For now, at least. </p><p>Whatever it is that Kamukura busied his mind with seems to have dissipated as he draws his hand away. There is a pressure on his back, two thin lines being drawn across his clothes. Of course, wiping himself clean is to be expected. </p><p>Kamukura made quick work of procuring a small bottle of antiseptic and a paper towel. Komaeda knows this isn’t necessary, the wounds are not nearly severe enough to require a thorough cleaning. But he makes no moves to stop him from pressing the dampened cloth onto his neck. </p><p>It stings. Komaeda doesn’t wince, staying completely still as Kamukura dabs the paper towel across his wounds, ensuring that not a single bit of open skin hasn’t been disinfected. He makes quick work of this, rolling out clean bandages and wrapping it around his neck before securing it a little tighter then what is necessary. But maybe it is necessary. Not for the recovery of his wounds though. </p><p>He didn’t even realize he had closed his eyes till the sound of a click brought him back. Instant relief floods his body as the familiar weight of his collar returns, his fingers immediately going to grab at it before being swatted away by Kamukura’s hand. </p><p>No words were spoken, but they were unneeded. There really is nothing he wouldn’t do, is there? Even at the cost of his own urges. Maybe it is for the best. Or the worst. He’ll find out eventually. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for making it this far &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading uwu</p></blockquote></div></div>
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